


To Dance Upon a Time

by goingtothetardis



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: And the Doctor can't pick his jaw off the floor, Blow Jobs, Brief cameo from Jackie and Pete, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingering, Prompt Fic, Public Sex, Rose is basically a goddess, Vitex Christmas Gala
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 18:11:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12259494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goingtothetardis/pseuds/goingtothetardis
Summary: The Doctor and Rose attend the annual Vitex Christmas Gala several months after arriving in Pete's World. Will a night of teasing and dancing be enough to move their relationship forward?





	To Dance Upon a Time

**Author's Note:**

> One of the prompts I received for my most recent fic giveaway was from Somanydistractions (on tumblr), and they requested: A mature Tentoo/Rose fic based on [this image.](http://goingtothetardis.tumblr.com/post/166017984447/to-dance-upon-a-time) You know that aggressive speaking through gritted teeth, very low and gravely thing that Ten does? That’s along the lines of what I had in mind.
> 
> Well, my friend, I hope this is what you wanted!! :D 
> 
> Unbeta'd, so please forgive any mistakes or unfortunate body positioning. (Gaaahhhhhhh.)

The Doctor fidgets nervously with his jacket as he waits for Rose in the foyer of their house. Or Rose’s house, rather. He doesn’t quite yet feel like he’s entitled to believe anything belongs to him in this universe, including Rose. 

Four months after his “birth” and being left here in the parallel universe, he and Rose are still trying to figure things out. She’d been deeply hurt and betrayed, both by him and the other Time Lord, and after acknowledging his wrongs, his part in the events that took place, he’d decided to put the ball in Rose’s court, so to say. He’d made his intentions known, that he wants her – wants _them_ – but that he’d wait as long as she needs until she’s ready. 

And now, on the night of Vitex’s annual Christmas Gala, one of the most posh and extravagant events of the year in this London, the Doctor wishes he could take Rose as more than “just a friend.” As his _plus one_ , his lover, his… everything. He refuses, however, to take away Rose’s free will from her ever again, and if patiently waiting for her is one way to prove himself, then he’ll do it.

A noise behind him pulls him from his musings, and he turns, a smile already on his face in anticipation of seeing Rose. “Ro…” Her name trails off his lips as his jaw falls open and he stares dumbly at the vision in front of him. 

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, lit by the dim light hanging from the ceiling, she’s a goddess. Clothed in a long, dark green gown that hugs every single one of her curves, Rose is both demure and indescribably sexy. A low-cut ‘V’ runs between her breasts, displaying the faintest hint of the curves that lay below, to just below her sternum, and as the Doctor’s eyes roam unchecked over her body, he doesn’t miss the sky high golden heels visible with the long slit up the side of the dress. Despite covering much of her body, it leaves little to the imagination. Large curls frame her face, and extravagant diamonds dangle from her ears. 

He tries again, clearing his voice. “Rose.” It comes out in a low rumble, and if he’s not mistaken, her eyes darken slightly at the sound. “You look,” he pauses, trying to find the right words. “You look…” 

A sly grin creeps across her face, and her eyes narrow slightly. “Cat got your tongue, Doctor?”

“Stunning,” he manages, finally blurting out one of the many inadequate adjectives rolling around his mind.

Under his intense stare, she blushes, then holds out her hand. “You’re quite foxy yourself,” she says, biting her lip as she laces her fingers with his. 

_Foxy?_ He hardly dares to hope that this evening offers more than he think it will. He preens at her words, adjusting the bowtie on his absurd tuxedo, the one he’d been forced to wear despite days of arguing with Jackie. 

“Lucky tux?” she asks, blinking innocently at him. 

The Doctor cringes as he opens the door, remembering his past experiences in a tux. He hopes this universe might change the tradition of the unlucky tux. “The night’s still young,” he answers, doing his best to keep his voice level.

They step outside, and he turns to lock the door before they walk down the steps, Rose teetering in her heels, to the waiting limo on the street.

* * *

The Doctor sighs in relief when they step out of the limo. The ride to the Gala had been excruciating, as his senses, still much more developed and acute than a human’s, had been assaulted by a cocktail of information from Rose. They’d sat across from each other, sharing soft, shy glances when they thought the other wasn’t looking, and his fingers had clenched his trousers as he’d been almost overwhelmed by waves of arousal coming from Rose’s direction. Surely, he’d misinterpreted her unspoken signals. It’d taken all of his self control to remain on his side of the limo, despite his instincts to throw himself to her side and map out every available surface of her body with his hands.

Now, outside of the limo, they’re accosted by flashing lights of the paps and press, eager to for a sight of the mysterious Vitex Heiress and her beau. They hurry quickly inside, both relieved to be rid of the flashing lights and overly enthusiastic photographers. 

He holds her hand, gripping it tightly as though she’s his anchor in the unfamiliarity of this new life (she is), and together they make their entrance. 

After surveying the grand ballroom, decorated to the nines with silver Christmas trees and baubles, Rose turns to the Doctor and holds onto his arm for balance as she leans up toward his ear. He instinctively puts his hand on her waist to stabilize her, biting back a groan when he discovers her dress is a soft velvet material that begs to be touched. 

“Doctor,” she says, voice low and seductive, his name flowing smoothly from her luscious red lips. “I’m not wearing knickers.” And with that, she turns and walks away from him, disappearing into the Gala. 

The Doctor blinks and stares after Rose, watching her hips sway back and forth as she walks away, his jaw slack. 

_What?!_

“What’d you do with Rose?” a slightly inebriated Jackie asks, suddenly appearing at his side, and he jumps, the intrusion of her voice a harsh contrast to Rose’s sultry one, which still echoes in his mind. 

“Jackie!” He looks in amusement between her and Pete, who holds gently to one of his wife’s elbows. “Good party.”

“How would you know? You only just got here,” Jackie says, looking pointedly between him and the door. 

“Er, yes,” he starts, tugging on an ear, and is promptly interrupted.

“Where’s Rose?”

His hand moves behind his head and disrupts his perfectly coiffed hair. “She, uh, well... I’m not sure where she got off to. She walked away as soon as we arrived.”

Jackie takes a step closer and scrutinizes him closely. “You know she’s waiting for you to make a move, right? Thinks you need time. You don’t, do you? Ya plum.” Her voice slurs slightly, and she reaches up to pat his cheek.

He stares at Jackie.

“She’s starting to wonder if you even do relationships and what not,” she adds, gesturing rather crudely at his groin. The Doctor closes his eyes in horror, wishing he could melt into the floor. Jackie Tyler thinking about his bits in any capacity is… no. “She thinks you don’t want to be with her.”

It takes the Doctor a moment to wrap his mind around Jackie’s words. _Rose thinks he doesn’t want to be with her?_ But _he’s_ been waiting for her!

“Jacks, come on,” Pete says, as he tugs Jackie away with an apologetic shrug of his shoulders at the Doctor. “They’ll figure it out. I think you’ve traumatized the Doctor enough for one night.”

The Doctor holds his hand up in a half-hearted wave as they walk off, Jackie muttering about how “those two will be the death of me.” His thoughts promptly return to Jackie’s earlier words. Perhaps he’d been wrong about all this. Perhaps he’d… Bits and fragments of conversations over the past four months flit through his mind, and he realizes he’s been the biggest, most enormous dumbo – Donna sure called that right – in the history of this universe. 

Rose wants him, and her comment about no knickers… He shivers in anticipation as a pleasant heat travels directly toward his groin. He needs to find Rose _now_. 

It doesn’t take long for him to find her, as she pulls attention to herself like a magnet wherever she goes. He can’t blame the other party goers, though, really, even though a surge of jealousy passes through him. She’s gorgeous beyond belief tonight.

Rose is dancing with some random bloke (handsome, yes, but his hair is far from great) in the center of the room, and a small gathering of other guests surround them. He watches for a moment, scowling, wondering how it is someone else managed to snag Rose as a dance partner before him. When Rose and her partner spin around, however, she catches his gaze and stares at him, a small smile playing on her lips. 

Had she intentionally found someone else to dance with first?

She executes the dance moves with perfect precision, but doesn’t once glance at her partner. Instead, she keeps her eyes on his whenever he falls within her line of sight, taunting and teasing him without a word. The song ends, and the Doctor moves forward to claim his place as her partner, but before he reaches the center of the circle, she plucks another willing partner from the crowd. 

He stops in his tracks and stares, his jaw falling open in shock. It seems to be doing that a lot this evening. 

The next time Rose swirls around in his direction, she’s smirking at him, her eyes flashing with both a challenge and barely contained amusement. 

A surge of arousal mixed with jealousy hits him hard as he realizes she’s doing all this to wind him up, to get him to _act_... to _do_ something about this thing between them. 

Before he really knows what’s happening, he’s stalking to the middle of the dance floor, and without missing a beat, he steps in and captures Rose in his arms the next time her current partner spins her away from him. He glares at the bloke, inwardly pleased at the obvious annoyance on the other man’s face, before spinning off with Rose. 

_Finally_. Her velvety dress slides easily under his fingers, and he boldly allows his hands to roam freely against her backside, careful to avoid the bare expanse of skin available to him from the plunging back neckline, which had been another jaw dropping discovery earlier. 

Pulling Rose close, closer than tradition dictates for this particular dance, he relishes in the way she presses herself against him, the way her hand holds his, the way her other arm around his torso pulls him tight against her. With a deep breath, he takes a chance and leans his mouth close to his ear. In a low voice, almost a growl, he says, “I know exactly what you’re doing.”

She shivers in his arms, then leans up to his ear, briefly catching his earlobe between her teeth before answering. “I know exactly what I want.”

Her words (and tongue) ignite a fire in him, a burning hope he can’t extinguish. He spins them around the dance floor, moving closer and closer to the edge, as a tension full of heat and promise grows between them. Rose’s eyes are dark as they capture his in an intense gaze, and once they’re away from the crowd, he laces her fingers with his without a word and pulls her with him as he stalks purposefully out of the room. 

Despite her towering heels, Rose has no problem keeping up with him, but he slows his pace anyway. After a few minutes, far enough away from the Gala so they can’t hear the music any longer, he spots a small alcove hidden behind some plants, and he tugs her into the space. 

Without a word, he spins her around and pushes her gently against the wall, placing his hands on either side of her body and allowing his insistent arousal to press into her hip, showing her exactly what _he_ wants.

“And what,” he asks again, his voice rumbling into her ear, “exactly do you want?” He pulls back to look at her, and his carefully maintained restraint almost cracks at the pure lust visible in her eyes.

Rose reaches out and strokes his length through his trousers. “You,” she answers. “Always you.” For the briefest moment, however, a vulnerability shines through her face. “If you want.”

“Oh, I want,” he growls, and wraps his hands around her bum and pulls her close. He finally allows his fingers to trail up the bare expanse of her back, and she shudders, letting out a low moan. A sound of which he’d very much like to hear again. 

One hand travels lower again, over the curve of her bum and past her hip, until his fingers touch the skin of her leg, accessible through the slit of her dress. He shifts to the side and lets his fingers travel inward, cautious and hesitant. 

Her eyes flick to his, and her mouth parts with a gasp at his touch. She says nothing, and his fingers move closer to where he knows she wants him. Shifting below him, she spreads her legs apart, and without wasting another moment, his fingers reach her folds. One finger slides smoothly through her heat, unhindered due to the moisture he finds there, and Rose bucks forward into his hand. Gently, he nudges her back against the wall so he can better tend to her needs. 

He adds another finger to his exploration, reveling in how ready she is for him, and lowers his mouth to her jaw. Planting soft kisses up to her ear, he nips on her earlobe. “When you said you weren’t wearing any knickers, I hardly dared to imagine this,” he whispers, unable to keep a needy pant from his voice. 

“I got tired of waiting,” Rose says, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the wall to provide him clear access to her neck, which he takes advantage of without hesitation. 

“I was waiting for you,” he replies, dragging his fingers slowly over her clit, eliciting a groan from Rose. 

Opening her eyes, she lifts her head up to meet his hungry gaze. “We’re a bit daft, aren’t we?” 

“Yes, well… Making up for lost time now.” He lifts Rose up slightly with his other arm, thankful for his lingering Time Lord strength, and plunges his fingers into her heat. “Rose,” he groans into her neck, “You’re so…”

“Fuck me, Doctor,” Rose demands, leveling him with a glare. 

At her command, he removes his fingers from her heat and returns them to her clit, swirling the moisture around the sensitive nub in swift movements. Rose wraps one of her legs around his and thrusts her hips into his hand. He presses harder, intensifying the motions on her clit, until she breaks, her walls clenching and fluttering around him. 

To stifle her cries, he finally, _finally_ covers her mouth with his, and he works her gently through her orgasm while they kiss. It’s a little bit messy and frantic, but he doesn’t care. When she falls forward against him, unable to support her own weight, he pulls his hand out and sticks his fingers in his mouth, sucking off her slick arousal. Rose looks up and catches him with two fingers deep in his mouth, and her mouth falls open.

The taste of her… If Rose crumbling around his fingers hadn’t been enough to stoke his arousal, the _taste_ of her on his fingers is enough to push him even closer to the edge. 

Without warning, she cups him again, squeezing gently to measure his reaction. A knowing smile crosses her face, and before he knows what’s happened, he’s the one pressed up against the wall. Rose pushes up on her toes and pulls his head down to hers, capturing his lips in a blistering kiss. It’s over before he has time to process it, however, and he blinks in confusion. 

Rose’s abrupt absence is explained moments later, when she swiftly undoes his belt, unzips his trousers, and pulls his stiff cock out of his pants in one smooth movement. His head thunks against the wall with a groan as he tries to process the myriad of sensations, and when her warm mouth surrounds the head of his cock, his mind goes blissfully blank. 

“Rose,” he gasps, trying not to shout and draw attention to their (hopefully) hidden location. “Rose, I– Unnnggghhhh…” The sensation around his cock intensifies, and he looks down to find her sucking on him, her bright red lips a stark contrast against his flesh as she hollows her cheeks and drags her mouth along his length to his tip. She swirls her tongue around several times before taking him in mouth again, and quite suddenly, the Doctor’s at a precipice. 

Months of yearning and waiting and teasing have pushed him to his breaking point, and as she lowers her head to take him deeper, he let’s go, coming in her mouth with a muffled shout. Somehow he turns his gaze downward, watching as Rose swallows him down. With a satisfied little grin, she licks around the tip of his cock, then her lips, before standing and tucking him back in his pants and zipping up his trousers. 

He can’t do anything except lean against the wall, knees weak from his orgasm, and stare at Rose in wonder. 

With a wide smile, Rose leans up to kiss him, and he moans when he tastes himself on her lips. His arms tug her close and wrap lazily around her back. “I’m ready to go home, yeah?” she says, her eyes glinting with a hint of lingering need. 

“Yeah,” he answers, voice breathless and low, eager to continue their activities in a less public place with (hopefully) less clothing. “Let’s go home."

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at goingtothetardis.tumblr.com!


End file.
